


misery go round

by kishicode (eihas)



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, suzakus going thru a rough patch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 11:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eihas/pseuds/kishicode
Summary: Suzaku's feelings about Lelouch's betrayal goes up and down and up and down. an emo fest post Akito series.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if it's a bit ooc, i wrote this more for myself than to keep suzaku ic. i also wrote this on my phone at 3 am and started off with the wrong tense and just kept going so if the tense is uncomfortable or weird, that's my bad. warning for violent angry thoughts via suzaku; it's not graphic, but he's got bad words to say.

It's 3 AM when Suzaku jerks out of bed, his shirt sticking to his skin as he gasps like he's just taken his first breath. His hair's matted to his head and he's shaking, his fingers gripping his sheets so hard that he feels them trembling. He was ten, and he was seventeen, and there's a knife in his father, and Lelouch is screaming. He's on the ground, he's on the ground, he doesn't know which one it is, who's on the ground?

He sits there on his bed, the slender stream of the hallway lights peeking from under his door. He checks his clock and it's such a disappointment to see that he doesn't even have to be up for another two hours. It's only when his heartbeat returns to its usual tempo that he starts to realize how uncomfortably hot he is, his curls matted to his forehead in slick sweat.

But it doesn't look like he can go back to sleep, and the bed is too hot. Suzaku slips out of the sheets, his feet resting firmly on the ground as he curls up on the edge of his bed, hands running through sweaty hair, elbows on his knees, eyes pressed closed, sinking, sinking, _sinking_.  
It's that feeling again, that debilitating depression, the brand of misery that only comes at 3 AM. It's when the rest of the world's asleep; there's no Gino to sidetrack him with silly antics, no Anya to distract him with her diary entries. There's no war to be fought and no battle to be won.

The room is unfamiliar and empty. Besides his uniforms, there's nothing in here that's distinctly his own. Euphy's quill sits on his desk and the clock ticks so loud that he wants to rip it off the wall and throw it on the floor, just to have something to do, something to clean up. But he knows better, _he's good now_ , he tells himself dully, as he presses his palms against his eyes.

It's so empty, inside and out. Suzaku hates this, because it's when he feels the most regret.  
It's the only hour in the world when he'll admit that he misses Lelouch.

-

It's 5 AM and he's already gotten ready for the day, dragging himself through the motions for the sheer fact that it was a day he couldn't miss. (Every day was a day he couldn't miss, really.)  
Arthur rubs himself against Suzaku's boots, purring thoughtfully. That feeling is mostly gone now; he's not quite as upset as before. He just wants to go and see to his duties, fall back into a comfortable rhythm of work.  
The sun doesn't come up for another two hours, but the lights are all on, and somehow, that in itself helped in its own way.

-

It's 12:30 PM and Nunnally's so lovely today, as she always is. He's having lunch with her at her request, and she asked the kitchen to make a Japanese meal for them both. She picks up the beansprouts with the most elegant work of chopstick use he's seen in Pendragon and adds them to her spoon of sticky white rice before she lifts her head.

"Suzaku, are you not hungry?"

To be honest, the chefs don't look like they know much about Japanese cuisine, because majority of what's on the table are Chinese or Chinese variants of side dishes.

Nothing here tastes like home. 

But he picks up a spoon and unceremoniously shovels his entire bowl of rice into the bland miso soup. Miss Lohmeyer looks incredibly displeased, but he could care less. What did she know about the etiquette of eating Japanese food anyway? This was his and Nunnally's meal. And she looks a little less worried when she hears his metal spoon clink against the porcelain bowl of his soup, but she's worried nonetheless. He sighs just a little.

"I'm fine, your highness. Don't worry, I'm just distracted. It's been a difficult day."

Lohmeyer crinkles her nose at his casual language. He ignores her again.

"It's only 12," she says gently, putting her chopsticks back down. "And you've been kept to paperwork for a bit, haven't you? I mean, you only just got back from Euro Britannia."

Suzaku chews his rice.  
"A lot happened that I need to report. It's a bit messy right now."

Nunnally frowns as he goes back to his meal. Suzaku swallows. He doesn't mean to hide anything from Nunnally. But it wasn't his place to burden her with his business, especially not when so much of it had to do with something as unsightly as war. Besides, the last few days of his visit to Euro Britannia had been a disastrous time, from the skirmish with the Order of St. Michael to the political mishaps during the capital riot. He would return at some point, as a solider this time, than a guard, but he had been sent back to the homeland to escort his prisoner to the Emperor and then report on his situation.

His prisoner. That had been --

"How is Lord Kingsley?"

Suzaku chokes on his soup, a hand flying over his mouth before Lohmeyer can grab him from the other side of the table and screech at him for spitting out rice during a meal with an Imperial Princess. The spoon in his hand clatters back onto the table as he coughs, and Nunnally looks startled. When he calms back down, he asks,

"How do you know him?"  
His tone is almost accusatory and Nunnally seems upset.

"I asked Brother Schneizel about what you were doing in Euro-Britannia and he said you were accompanying him there..."

He sinks back in his seat, the anxiety that prickled in his spine starting to withdraw into a resigned slump of relief. Nunnally's concerned frown furrows.

"...Miss Lohmeyer, could you excuse us for a bit?"

The adviser crinkles her nose once more as she pushed up her spectacles, a word of affirmation as she leaves the room. The door closes with a gentle click and Nunnally gestures for him to come, waving him over with such a look that he immediately feels guilty for snapping at her. Still, Suzaku rises from his seat and kneels beside her, one hand on her chair, the other holding her hand. She quietly slips off his black glove, leaving it on her lap, as she weaves her slender, soft fingers between his rough bony ones. He bows his head and her touch is tender and sweet, just the way she had comforted him when they were children.

He feels so vulnerable.

"Suzaku," she says softly. "You're upset."

"I'm sorry, Nunnally," he replies, with such guilt that she shakes her head.

"No, don't be. Please, tell me what's wrong. Did something happen in Euro Britannia?"

He can't lie to her.

"It's ... it's been a rough campaign," he says after some struggle, loosening his grip on her hand. "I guess I'm not quite used to all this; there was never a need to really understand the politics when I was just a grunt soldier."

"You've always understood the politics," she says firmly, encouragingly. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have been promoted or kept as a Knight of Rounds. Don't sell yourself short."

"...Right. Of course not," he chuckles, his voice laced with false understanding, as if he got it, thank you Nunnally, let's just laugh it all away now. He wants to let go of her hand and return to their meal charade, with Lohmeyer there to judge his every move. It was easier like that.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly, and Suzaku jerks his head up in surprise.

"For what? You've done nothing wrong."

"Even as a Princess, I can't help you. I'm well off through the protection of my siblings, and through your care. I thought to eat meals with you that might make you feel more at home, but I've only caused you grief."

"No! Oh, no, Nunnally, it's not your fault. Please, don't apologize--"

"No, it's my fault. You're so much stronger than me, Suzaku," she says, her fingers tracing his eyebrow, his eyelid, the bridge of his nose, ghosting the structure of his face so gently that it almost tickled. And she looks sad, so so sad.

And before he can speak, she continues in the softest of whispers.

"One day, you, big brother, and I will eat a proper Japanese meal together again."

His jaw clenches and he rises back to his feet.

"Why don't we call Miss Lohmeyer back in?"

Nunnally stops, looking shocked at his sudden change in demeanor, before slowly handing him back his glove. He grabs it, slips it back on, and with the click of his heels, turns back to the door.

"I have a conference with Sir Guilford this afternoon I must prepare for. Please, excuse me."

It was 1:20 PM and Nunnally turned away to hide the hurt.

-

It was him, him, he ruined it all, he made Nunnally upset, he forced her into this situation. The flicker of anger that had sparked when seeing how sad Nunnally had been only burst into a flaming rage as he sped past startled maids and servants, hurrying to the privacy of his own room where he could escape the public eye. Suzaku was remembering everything again, everything that had made him so angry and hurt, the lack of _answers_ , the smug expression, the total **apathy**. What a **fucking** sociopath! How fucking **dare** he! How could he ask Suzaku for his help (WE'RE FRIENDS, AREN'T WE? THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN'T DO TOGETHER!) and then wave away his miseries (EUPHY'S IN THE PAST! IT'S ALL IN THE PAST! GET OVER IT! YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER AND GOT OVER THAT, DIDN'T YOU?). How could he. How could he. What had he been thinking then? All this time? He found out that Suzaku had been the pilot of the Lancelot long before Suzaku found out ~~(acknowledged)~~ he was Zero. So what had he he been thinking, waging war after war, battle after battle, ordering Euphemia to slaughter his countrymen and then killing her off himself for his own gain? Did he anticipate Suzaku's reaction? Did he work that into his plans? Did he use him, Euphy, everyone, lying to them all, even _NUNNALLY_ , how _DARE HE that **FUCKER** HE THINKS HE'S GOD, HE'S NOT **SHIT** , HE HAD NO **FUCKING** RIGHT, HOW FUCKING **VILE** , MANIPULATIVE LITTLE **SHIT** , WHO DOES HE THINK HE **IS** , PLAYING WITH PEOPLE'S HEARTS, FOR WHAT, **FOR WHAT, AWFUL, SELFISH, TERRIBLE, TRAITOROUS, I'LL KILL ZERO, I'LL KILL HIM MYSELF, HOW COULD HE, HOW COULD HE, HOW--**_

"Woah there!"

"What?!" Suzaku snaps, slapping away the hand that grabbed him by the shoulder with such viciousness that his victim shirks back.

"Hey, hey, easy ... are you alright? You could set Pendragon ablaze with that look, with the way you're charging through the hallway like that..."

It was Gino Weinburg, the Knight of Three, and Suzaku immediately recoils, trying to calm himself down despite his brutal ire. His voice is shaking as he swallows, rubbing his temple with two fingers as he groans.

"I'm...not in the best mood at the moment," he sighs with thinly veiled frustration. And Gino's frown grows deeper. He's only ever seen Suzaku like this on the battlefield, savage and sacrosanct in his trail of blood and scraped metal. So he keeps his hands to himself this time, though one's still floating in the air from where Suzaku had smacked it away.

"I can see that," he says seriously. "Did something happen? What's wrong?"

"...Bad sleep," he replies shortly, voice clipped and annoyed. "I'll go take a nap."

"Hey, just wait now!" Gino stops him, grabbing him by the arm just as he turns to leave.

"What now?!" Suzaku growls, ripping the limb from Gino's grasp, looking like he's about to snap and kill him himself.

"Wait! Calm down. Please. Relax," he begs. "You're not in a good place right now and you definitely don't have time to be napping; the conference is in two hours."

"Sir Weinburg, if you insist on taking up any more of my time with the obvious then I--"

"Vent. Talk to me. It helps."

He was greeted with a glare.

"I mean it. I promise, I won't go anywhere with it. I won't even tell Anya."

He's genuinely worried, because there's no battlefield and no war and no Knightmare to crush. There should be no reason for Suzaku to be this upset, this angry. Because not once had Gino ever seen him like this outside of those circumstances. Even with worst of verbal abuse that Bradley had slung at him, the Knight of Seven had taken in the insults and slurs with a demeanor fit for a gentleman.

So...

"I'm fine."

Suzaku's voice was less angry now, less violent. But it was still tense, strung with a burden invisible to Gino's eyes, and vibrating with the sort of apathetic gesture that would snap that string at any point.

"You're not."

"Gino, I'm fine. Please."

It's Suzaku who's begging now.

"Please."

It's 2 PM.

-

It was 5 PM and Suzaku was sitting at his desk in his own private office, because every Knight of Rounds had an office fit for them if they ever came to visit any building in Britannia, which Suzaku thought was silly and frivolous because he didn't need a fancy cushioned chair or cherry oak wooden desks and his own personal stationary set with his own seal and stamps just to write up a few reports during such a short stay. But that was why it was necessary, because the Knight of Rounds were so important that these stupid things were a symbol of their authority. 

He flips through papers open on his desk and scribbles small things on them before typing on his laptop, essentially doing the easier bits of paperwork before the long awaited report on the incident at Euro Britannia.

And finally, when the report on Lancelot's damage is done and sent, when the files on the Order of St. Michael are read and approved, when the riot at St. Petersburg is explained and emailed away, he finally begins his last task for the day.

_Julius Kingsley Status Report_

He feels a bit silly having waited on writing this report for so long, like a student who had yet to touch a research paper long overdue. And he thinks about how angry he was earlier that day, how close he was to either breaking Gino's wrist or admitting everything to him. And he's disappointed with himself, for having thrown such an embarrassing temper tantrum in a place so public. He's probably upset Nunnally too, leaving her so quickly and coldly. Suzaku groans as he rubs his face, callouses scratching at his eyelids, vaguely annoyed at himself for proving that he still cared about this whole stupid ordeal. That was the past. Lelouch's actions had been painfully permanent, and there was no going back. And Suzaku had gotten his revenge, hadn't he? There were no more loose ends, nothing else to worry about.

Then again, he wasn't so good at letting go of what once was.

He starts typing up what happened with Julius Kingsley, with the Emperor's attempt to use Lelouch's brilliance for the empire. The tone is professional and apathetic, detached in its entirety, as if Suzaku hadn't curled up into a ball and tried to drown out Lelouch's drug and Geass induced murmurs of the past, as if he hadn't tried to strangle him to death while they had been in their jail cell together, as if he hadn't let him curl up beside him and sleep soundly for the first time since being rechristened as Julius.

And it feels good, to care so little about this pathetic man he once called friend. What does he care of Julius Kingsley and Lelouch vi Britannia alike? He had dusted his hands of them both now, and at this rate, would no longer have to deal with him in the homeland.

His mind wanders to the vague memory of that misery he felt that morning, the dull pain in his chest that cried for the only person in the world who could've betrayed him so bitterly. But he's certain this time that he doesn't care, and he'll never care, not ever again. He was just glad this would be over with. Lelouch was gone. This report would be the last. He could laugh in cold disinterest.

He finishes off the report, prints it out, signs, and stamps it with the Rounds emblem. It's in a manila folder by Euphy's quill, on the table at his office, and he's back in his own room where he's going to sleep soundly this time. 

It's 12:30 AM and Suzaku curls up in his bed, back to the wall, as Arthur mewls in his sleep in the empty bit of bed between his legs. It's the first time Arthur bothers to sleep in his bed.

-

It's 3 AM when he wakes up crying, wishing Lelouch would answer his old number.

**Author's Note:**

> i relate to suzaku a lot and one of the things i relate with him the most is the way he carries his anger and his conflicting feelings about his (boy)friend. i think the creators of cg portrayed a really specific and personal sort of relationship between their whole betrayal thing. waking up at ungodly hours and feeling like hell, getting riled up over the smallest thing in their memory, being coldly apathetic about the loss, and then going through all that over again, all while keeping an eye on the clock so you don't accidentally miss your classes and meetings while you're stewing in depressionland ......................... that shit fucking blows so i put my fave thru it.


End file.
